♫ ic! contact box

[counterclock]

- email
- phone
- text

Comments

[enrages]

[ he scoops up some ice cream with his fingers and kinda snacks a lil bit ]

I make sure to limit how much he gets. He'll be fine.

[counterclock]

I guess you wouldn't be the first one to feed their dog ice cream. [She shrugs. She's let her cat lick shit before too, so it's not like she's free of guilt.]

So, uh...

[enrages]

[ He lays his head on the table. ]

Kill me.

[counterclock]

Uhhhh yeah I don't want to go to jail, we don't need any more incarcerated Striders in the world. Why don't you just... [aaaaand she has no suggestions.]

[enrages]

Yeah, I'll just ellipses into the sunset. Good plan, punk.

[counterclock]

Hey, shitwagon, you don't get to call me a punk, I'm like five years older than your bratty ass. [Elbows.]

[enrages]

[ rolls.... off the table and lands under it. ]

Fuuuuuuuuuuck you.

[ the grass is wet. life is awful. ]

[counterclock]

[All she does is casually kick him, because he's there.]

You.

Have.

Problems.

[enrages]

[ whine ]

I have 99 problems, and they're all you.

[counterclock]

Dude, I just bought you icecream. Some of which you didn't even eat. I don't want to hear about it. There is no way I am a problem of yours right now, so you go right on and fuck yourself.

[crunch crunch crunch there goes the rest of her cone.]

[enrages]

I would have a hundred problems. The ice cream took one you-inspired problem away. [ just lying on the grass. it's slightly wet. this is gross. ]

[counterclock]

I want a list of at least five other problems I am directly causing you right now.

[She kicks him a little harder.] Get off the fuckin' grass, you dweeb.

[enrages]

I can't. I'm stuck. My stuff that you keep kicking hurts. Life hurts. Those are you-inspired problems.

cw: homophobic slur

[counterclock]

I'm gonna buy another icecream cone and I'm gonna sit here and slowly smear it all over your face until you get up. You aren't stuck. You just don't believe in the power of the force.

Get up, Karson. Eat your icecream. Go home to your wife and dog. Or you know, your sugardaddy because I'm pretty sure you're a fag.

[enrages]

Fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine.

[ wallow wallow wallow wallow ]

Don't use slurs like that-- my sexuality is none of your fucking buuuuusinesssss. Ugh.

[counterclock]

Actually I'm pretty sure I can use slurs however I like, but if it makes you more comfortable I'll just say, yeah, I'm pretty sure you're a sparkling fairy homoqueer.

[enrages]

[ dragging self up to slump all over the table again ]

Your ass is a sparkling fairy homoqueer-- not even said in a derogatory way, because there is nothing wrong with sparkling, fairies, or homoqueers.

[counterclock]

Goddamn right my ass is a sparkling fairy homoqueer. That's basically the whole point.

[She would help him but that would require touching. So no.]